Castlevania: The Fallen Prince
by Daryl Falchion
Summary: The sequel to the Tragic Prince. Like the dawn vanquishing the cursed night, Adrian conquered his alterego, Alucard. But what if he were to become addicted again? Would the night return? Herein these pages lies the answers...SotN Complete
1. Scene 1, The White Rose

_Scene 1_

_The Ivory Rose_

"Sono da sempre (Just like the wind)..."

Akin the touch of a lover, a mother, the heavenly host, a wind caressed his marble cheek, rippled through his hair, the color of moonbeams. It sighed over his throat in a most pleasurable motion. Scents followed its lead, spidering its path through the avenues of his sensations.

"Come il vento (I always been.)..." He offered up his attention to the breeze, streaming his own fingers over the trail as he drew a shuddering breath. Beautiful white pennants fluttered in that invisible hand, like scattered snowflakes under a winter's wrath. But this wind was no winter's wrath...rather it was the greetings of life.

"Transcinato verso l'alto in un cielo senza fine (Drifting up high in a sky that never ends.)..." Like liquid gold, his eyes lifted up to gaze into the clouds. Those ivory stratus also swayed, forming and reforming, so quickly changing...like a mortal's mind.

"Ce chi che mi giudica ogni giorno della mia vita? Beh, tutto guello che posso dare e il meglio di me (Is someone testing me everyday that I live? Well, the best in me is all I have to give.)..." Now those amber depths lowered to rest on the immaculately shaped rose in his hands. A rare pure white rose with a bouquet enough to send a man's mind into the throes of passion. Or remise...

Those eyes closed as he repeated the phrase, his heart in perfect unison to each note. Other sounds drifted in the air, of delight and tranquility. Though his eyelids severed his sensation to the physical sight of this world, he could repaint the image in his darkness with a sureness only paralleled by the white rose clasped in his hand.

Memories, fresh as waves on the beach, washed over his thoughts, into that silent blackness. His mother. His father. His heritage. His blood. His soul. His heart. In the seconds it takes to breathe, the entire scope of life flashed by.

But that was the past.

This was the present.

Another sigh, and Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes strode into his future.

The moment his pearly gloves pushed open the gold-rimmed wood doors, a cheer, nearly as loud as thunder, assaulted Adrian's ears. He was late, he knew. The bride usually came in last but Adrian found himself so caught up in staring at his mother's grave that he'd forgot the time. With a fluid motion and he tucked the flower in a chest pocket. His eyes, as liquid, crystal, and color of champagne, absorbed the crowd. Hundreds of multi-dressed individuals, seated on gold chairs, bid his entrance a greeting of gladness to the point that several rose to clap. He knew most of them, friends Richter and Annette Belmont, their twins, Marie and Alan, the village council, and many of the surrounding area's public.

Adrian flashed his most winning smile and received a few whistles for that. Rare it is that he flushes but at that glorious day and under such potent agreeable persecution he found his ears tinted a delicate pink. Up the petal-bedecked aisle he marched, well aware of two eyes, as green as deep ocean water, on him. To those, Adrian gazed up.

"Maria..." he murmured unintentionally in his customary cultured voice.

At the end of the corridor of white streamers and strewn flowers was she. A slender, proportioned body occupied the silken wedding gown flawlessly as pure gold hair was lifted in a crown of pearls and flowers. Each of his bride's luscious curves enhanced the dress's own beauty. Ribbons of silk and lace were wrapped around the bodice and the hem swept over violet carpet. The back was cross-stitched and the front's bosom comprised ruffles. Sleeves, ribonated with pearls, extended from her shoulders and up to her knuckles.

All in a word–beautiful.

His own garb, a stark black-and-white suit trimmed with gold and platinum was similar to Adrian's old outfits and he felt insufficient compared to this angel. Feeling another smile coming to his face, Adrian offered up a hand. Before his bride could receive it, however, one tiny hand snatched his and yanked it down. Collective gasps filled the wedding chamber. The priest looked positively scandalized and even his bride seemed annoyed. Startled, Adrian glanced mildly at his interrupter.

A young flower girl with caramel brown hair had his hand and was holding it to her chest. Immediately Adrian recognized her and grinned. With a movement as flawless as light on water, he knelt to her height. Voices continued to pervade the silence. He identified the sounds of little Marie's mother and father as they conversed worriedly. But he did not worry.

She gestured with a finger.

He leaned forward.

Curls dancing, the girl pecked him on the cheek and whispered, "Don't marry her. Marry me!"

From the sounds of shock, Adrian knew the proclamation had not reached his ears alone. It was a silly demand, of course, a eight year old asking to wed him but he found it flattering all the same. Adrian knew of his near-immortalized status and, though he did nothing to promote it, the populace of this village named him 'the golden warrior' or the 'the divine prince'. He'd preferred not to be idolized so but such was life.

_But, then, saving the world from imminent destruction often brings such praise_.

While the rest of the wedding guests and attendants fidgeted and muttered things of concern, he merely cleared his throat and announced, loud so all could hear, "My dear Marie, though fair you be, I am not the one for thee. Take heart, though, for I see love in your future as well." With that, he kissed the shiny hair and bid she return to her seat.

When Marie, crimson in happiness, bounced back into her seat near her parents, Richter and Annette, who both breathed a sigh of relief. Neither wanted the glorious day of their friends' to be ruined by their daughter's unpredictable nature. Richter, dressed uncomfortably in a black suit, mouthed a "Thank You".

Adrian's golden eyes gleamed and he nodded. He rose to his six-foot stature and took his bride's hand in his. She smiled. He smiled. For today was the day that both had waited for so long. It was a hard road, full of pain, suffering, self-doubt and now both could enjoy the fruits of their labor–love.

The priest, having gathered his decidedly-tarnished image like his gold robe, opened the bible and began the benediction. Had Adrian been his alterego Alucard, the half-human half-vampire, such a divine gesture would have had him on his knees in gruesome agony. But Alucard was dead. Adrian lived now, liberated of his cursed blood. Liberated of his cursed soul.

"Here we are gathered...(no, that's not right)...Gathered here we are...(hmm, still not right)...Ah, we are gathered here today to bless the union of this man and this woman in holy matrimony...(Ah, that's it)..."

As the skinny priest declared his befuddled consecration, Adrian gazed at his bride, Maria. A half-pleasant, half-painful constriction claimed his heart. He loved her so much. She was the light that shone in the darkness of his vampiric heritage, helped him sanctify his birthright as the son of the tyrant Dracula. More than difficult had been his struggle to understand his place in this world. And now he knew that place.

The golden warrior. The divine prince.

"Let us pray. Oh, our father that arth in heaven, haloed be thy name..."

As the hundreds of guests and the priest sank their heads in prayer, Adrian caught Maria's smiling eyes. He returned the smile. It was finally happening, they would finally be wed. Husband and wife. Their hearts beat as one.

Her love coursed through him like a spiced wine and he downed it gratefully. For years he'd denied himself emotions and love after the loss of his beloved mother. Into a madness of evil and despair he'd mired himself, giving birth to Alucard, prince of darkness. But with her and Richter's and Annette's help, Adrian had overcome to be named the immortal savior of the world.

_From prince of darkness to prince of salvation. What a change a man can make!_

"And, now, for the rings."

Alan, a fair-haired lad, promptly leapt up to present the gold wedding bands on a purple pillow. Adrian and Maria lifted up the rings and nodded their appreciation. He grinned and sat back down. With eyes solely for each other, both recited the marriage vows and placed a ring on the other's finger. The tension in the air was like a soft blanket–not at all threatening, just the anticipation of waiting for the match to spark flame.

With that portion of the wedding procedure done, Adrian straightened and waited for the next part. His thoughts were but absentminded, more on his love than on the ceremony. It was all formality, of course, and the Tepes found amusement in that. He'd rather a simple signing of paper but for Maria that wouldn't do. So, for her, this grandiose church had been prepared and half the village invited. Besides, the public wanted to see their 'sacred prince'. To that, Adrian couldn't help but sheepishly grin. He had no desire to be a role model but since the masses needed a hero to look up to, he assented.

The priest coughed uncomfortably over his next line. "If...any man...thinks these two should not be together...(oops, I forgot woman)...or woman...speak now or forever hold your peace." As if thinking none would dare oppose this ceremony, he hurriedly continued. But his next words died on his lips as a shadowy figure rose.

"I do."

All eyes turned to the man.

The dark form did not cringe beneath the glares. Instead, he radiated a hatred so powerful it shattered the delicate beauty of the chapel. "Have you forgotten mother so soon, _Alucard_? Ah, but you would, for she was just a wrinkly old hag. And me? You murdered me as a child!"

Silence descended. Now the tension was a bow string about to break.

Adrian could not speak. He knew the voice! The realization lightninged down his form with sharp pain. Still, he struggled to bring life to words...but he was too late...for the man had marched out of the church and faded from view.

Long moments passed in which no one said anything. Maria watched with great concern at Adrian but the Tepes just stared ahead, unseeing. The dark memories that had retreated before his determination now reappeared with a vengeance.

_Was it...him? HIM? Dear God...I feel so confused..._

Coughing again, the priest muttered, "Maybe we should...ah, postpone, the wedding for a different date."

Some among the crowd agreed. If the couple were no longer up to continuing wasn't another day better? Others groaned in protest. Why let one ill-humored man ruin the celebration? Still others said nothing, either in too much shocked awe at the outburst or had some very multi-conflicted opinions.

"No," Adrian announced. His voice as sure as a steel dagger, he added, "I have waited too long and endured too much to delay at the whim of a upstart."

To this, they agreed verbally.

"Besides, I don't want to go through another ceremony wearing THIS again!" As Adrian hoped, that comment drew healthy laughter. The twins bounced up and down in their seats. Richter guffawed whole-heartedly while Annette chuckled. Maria cast the groom a mischievous smile. Even the priest seemed less ill-at-ease.

"Alright then. One last thing...(I hope I get _this one_ right)...you may kiss the groom! Damn!" Now the priest looked utterly appalled

But Maria didn't mind. Flinging her arms around the golden prince, she planted a long passionate kiss on his lips. Adrian melted into the kiss after being taken aback briefly by the temerity. Cheers submerged the air. The awkwardness following the man's tactless remark faded.

Daises and grain greeted the couple at every step down the corridor as the women tossed petals and men threw rice. Like the joy that flooded them, it sailed into both blond manes, one of white gold and the other like the sun itself. Adrian and Maria held hands as they passed over the threshold of the chapel. Though familiarity of the voice still haunted his mind, he managed to thrust it aside.

As the crowds massed into coaches to take them to the reception, so, too, did the newly-wed pair load into a golden carriage lead by two white horses. Adrian bent over to kiss Maria and didn't notice the rose falling from his pocket.

Nor did he note the strange man reappearing momentarily, lift the flower in a hand and crush the petals. They fluttered to the ground like pieces of a shattered mirror...or heart.

Like the moonbeams his hair fluttered with the breeze. The orb of night cast a refreshing light and wind. Before Adrian had found that invisible touch pleasant. Once he would have welcomed it. But now it only brought him bitter pain.

The divine prince stood by the chamber window, arms rested on the sill, champagne eyes cast out to the sky. The day had been a blessed one, full of happiness and celebration, toasts to good health and fortune. Both he and Maria were exhausted by the time they'd managed to sneak away. Night graced them, as the new couple entered their room, in the manor at the center of town. Kissing and laughing, Adrian had carried her over the threshold, intent on making her, his.

That's when she promptly fell asleep.

Adrian grinned, half-turning to gaze at his sleeping beauty. Maria lay on the gold bedspread, angelic in her innocent snores. He didn't blame her for the bad timing. The whole wedding preparations would tire out anyone...even the fiery spirit of Maria.

_If Richter ever found out he would never let me live it down... _

Those thoughts, while amusing, still did not dispel the disturbing memories of the man with the malicious intent to ruin their happiness. Yes, the voice was definitely familiar. And yet, while he recognized it at the instant the man had spoken it seemed but a dream's passing comprehension and now it eluded him.

Adrian resumed his silent window side vigil. After having had settled his wife down on the bed, he had tore the old clothing off himself and donned a simple night robe. It was far more comfortable. Then, he had rested by his beloved and closed his eyes.

But rest would not come.

So, here he was, guarding the window pane, watching the stars spread beautiful illumination on the town and its lake. He could not sleep–not with knowing that inside his 'godly' exterior lay a dark and deadly secret.

A lie.

Adrian crushed that thought from his mind. It was not technically a lie. He had not spoken any untruths. The Tepes merely hid something, denied the awful fact the light of words.

A lie.

_Dear God, please don't ever let Maria find out...I've hurt her enough...I love her so much...Don't let the dark truth ruin that..._

Burying his face in two bare hands, Adrian melted beneath the darkness. Only the sounds of nighttime came to his ears, crickets chirping, wind whispering, waves lapping. But, then, a rustle of fabric...

He froze. Someone was behind him!

Adrian dodged the outstretched hands that threatened to snare him. When he spun to note his assailant, all the gold-haired man saw was a black-attired figure. It lunged at him again, and, a second time, Adrian evaded. Ducking steel, he kicked the figure senseless on the carpet.

The violence ended as soon as it started.

Breathing softly and flipping ivory-gold bangs aside, he dropped to a knee to examine the attacker. He could see nothing. The figure remained garbed in all black. _Well, then, my friend, let take off your mask and discover your identity..._

Carefully he drew away the dark hood and gazed into the face...Curls of flame hair, white skin, dark eyes, blood-red lips...Adrian gasped thinly. The Succubus!

"Ah, my beautiful Alucard, it's so good to see you! What? Not happy to see me? I'll change that!" Immediately, the demon woman clawed into his arms and dragged him over her. She pressed her lips to Adrian's with a kiss that is as intense as a icy bite.

Adrian struggled but found his body unresponsive and his nerves sluggish. It was then that he realized the Succubus must have poisoned her lips with some sort of sedative. Helpless as an infant, the divine prince sagged to the ground, partially over his assailant. Still, he fought, thinking horribly of what the demon woman might do to Maria.

Other shadowy forms crowded him now, two more, but he recognized only one. The chill of that figure on his left betrayed that one's personality–Death. The Succubus crawled, reluctantly, out from underneath him and rolled the Tepes on his back. She wrapped his arms and legs in barbed wire with the aid of Death. The third figure remained standing, watching impassively.

Even though remaining conscious was an effort, Adrian attempted to call out to him. If he was who Adrian thought him to be, perhaps the Tepes might find help. His voice soft as a breath, the divine prince whispered, "Trevor...please, stop this...help me...please..." Then his struggles aided him none.

Beneath the darkness he heard, "I'm sorry...Father."


	2. Scene 2, The Crimson Life

_Scene 2_

_The Crimson Life_

Normally when an individual awakens, the blackness that smothers to infinity fragments into a myriad of colors to finally define what is reality. It breathes life into textures and refines with an inexplicable accuracy the environment. In essence, sight should return.

But ever was Adrian an exception.

At this moment, he could see nothing, though his other senses appeared unaffected. Dampness permeated his seat, a stone throne as far as he could figure, contributing to the golden prince's feeling of ill-ease. Fluttering, perhaps of winged night creatures, filled his ears and stirred the air about him. With paralyzing terror, Adrian found both arms tightly lashed to the chair. That snake of fear permeated him entirely as two hands, one moist, one chill, darted along his chest.

_I'm blind!_ was his initial thought. Swallowing down the dry fear that made his throat raspy the former Prince of Darkness banished trepidation and instead instilled an air of indignance. _They could not do this to him!_ And with chilling realization, Adrian had to admit that they _could _do this to him. They _were _doing this to him.

Fear has many shades. Sometimes its that of a mild trepidation, a light color. Oftentimes, its sheer terror is an intense, dark color. Whatever the shade it's a part of all humanity. And Adrian, now of that persuasion, was experiencing the later. Emotions swayed within him back and forth going from one extreme to another. It had been years since his transformation to a full-blooded human and still emotion tripped him.

Trial and error. He'd learn one step at a time.

But would he live long enough to profit from it?

"I demand to know who is responsible for this. I demand to know what you've done with Trevor," declared Adrian in a clear voice, investing it with more confidence than he felt. Still, he was a nobleman, bound by tradition to remain composed. "This instant! And you will cease this foolishness upon me."

High pitched, shrieking laughter answered him.

"Still authoritative, Prince Alucard? Must run in the blood. I know your father was quite the demanding lord. Full of charisma and power. Until his son murdered him."

The voice...familiar...evil...

Stilling the fear which fueled his heart to thump, the golden-haired nobleman called out defiantly, "There is no one by that name. Alucard is dead."

More laughter. "Alucard is very much alive–he sleeps within you."

"No, Adrian is alive in his place. And as for my father, he shall rest in peace, and never more be given cursed flesh."

The voice did not immediately respond. A rustling noise, of cloth, informed Adrian that this enigmatic individual approached. The two hands that clamped on his wrists vanished like mist over the horizon, replaced by a single hand. It cupped his chin, very reminiscence of...his father! That fateful night when Dracula had done the same to him. Was it...!

_No, my father's fingers were fine-boned and strong not like this gnarled hand._

Then the truth was revealed. The blindfold came off.

Shaft.

In a low tone Adrian muttered, "I should have known. Release me."

His captor chuckled. "Willful brat you are. The biting edge of untempered steel. But that will change." The priest fiddled with the blindfold, twisting it into knots that resembled the Tepes' stomach. A most unpleasant sensation he could testify. Why had they even used it? He was unconscious at the abduction–his kidnappers couldn't be worrying that he'd identify the prison. Nor did his sight provide any threat.

Then it struck him like a bolt of lightning. Shaft wanted to terrify him; a scare tactic. Kidnap him boldly from his own home, drug him in such a sick manner, blindfold him so he'd be impaired and susceptible to sense-crushing fear.

That made him angry. VERY ANGRY.

"Say what you will, Shaft but I've yet to yield. And I don't think I'll break that habit." Some of his lordly arrogance bleed through to the tone.

The dark priest's grin could madden. "Ah, still resistant. That fire burned within your father...how magnificent it was!"

Stiffening in his bonds, Adrian replied, "How evil."

"Evil is beautiful. I shall recreate you in his image."

Those were his father's words! Adrian shuddered. Then he resumed being still. It seemed such a twisted symphony–fearful and composed all in one terrible note. But Shaft had yet to do anything against his will since he was a child so what made any of them think now would be different? Them...his gaze shifted to the other captors present. One of tattered robes, scythe, and a skeletal formation. The other of a ridiculously-revealing outfit, dark eyes, and crimson hair. Death and the Succubus. How appropriate.

Fear and Sex. The downfall of many angels...

"I have been sanctified of my vile birthright."

"You are...dead...wrong, Alucard," hissed Death.

The Succubus added seductively, "I–we–liked you the way you were so we decided to revive your vampiric side...You were a very handsome half-breed, indeed!"

Chuckling darkly, the dark priest indicated with a hand that the two may return to their indecent handling. Death resumed his painful claw marring of the former dark prince's neck. The Succubus' fingers did erotic swirls in his chest, peeking them into his silk night robe. And he was helpless like a child at its conception to their cruel fantasies...

Meanwhile, Shaft strode over to a wooden cabinet, sandals slapping against the stone floor as his purple-and-orange robes whispered like shadows. He withdrew two items: a golden goblet and a vial containing red wine.

_No, not red wine,_ Adrian realized, _blood!_ The liquid poured into the cup with a swishing sound. What were Shaft's sick designs? As ever, he schemed and concocted nightmares. A fanatic to the rulership of the undead and Count Dracula's most loyal human worshiper, more than once the dark priest was responsible for the unscheduled remanifestation of Adrian's father. The golden nobleman had thought Shaft dead after their confrontation but apparently he was very much alive and at work to further the evil.

_My father, Richter, Maria, Annette...all of them have been on the receiving end of Shaft's manipulations. Am I next? _

If so, God have mercy on his soul–cause only He could!

Shaft snapped his fingers. "You'll drink of the cup of...'life'."

With rehearsed swiftness the probing hands shifted from their original positions. They clamped onto the champagne-eyed nobleman's shoulders and chin. Adrian struggled but to no avail. He could see the empty eyes of Death gleam maliciously; could detect the same expression from the Succubus' full lips. Shaft approached, his hands gripping the chalice like God's (or more accurately, the Devil's) blood himself.

"Never!" he cried defiantly.

"Yes...Yes, my child, a boy should respect his elder's wishes."

Adrian didn't much like this verbal sparring but anything was better than what he imagined Shaft had planned. "_I _am over four hundred years old. _You _are little more than seventy. Speak not of respect; you know nothing of it."

"Tsk. Tsk. I come bringing you a great gift–of eternal life."

"Of eternal hell!"

Shaft shrugged and leered as he shoved the goblet under his captivee's nose. "This–" he gestured with a bony finger. "–is the last remnants of your father. It is still, as you might imagine, quite active. The chemical agents seeking human nourishment continue to function. Once consumed it will fuse with the blood already present to form artificial vampirism."

"What are you going to do?" asked the fair-haired man dryly. "Make me drink it?"

The smile deepened. "Exactly."

"What?!"

"Hold him."

"No!"

He would have a dark rebirth. He was trapped–in a mad web of lust, dread, and blood.

Both the reaper of wayward souls and the demon of seduction firmly restrained Adrian, preventing any movement. Desperate, the prince jammed his mouth shut. His beautiful golden eyes flashed with volumes of fury and fear.

Shaft expertly peeled his lips ajar as a mother might do to a disobedient child. Then he forced the burning liquid down his victim's throat. Naturally, much of the sticky substance erupted back up to splatter both priest and prince. But the damage had been done.

With Adrian gagging and gasping, his face radiating horror, Shaft ordered his release. Reluctantly, the two who flanked him did so. "Now, my dear Alucard, you'll see. You'll understand. You and your son can once again reunite with a minor distinction this time. Fight for the side of the darkness!"

"Rot in hell! I demand to see Trevor!"

Laughter grated Adrian's ears. Shaft's. The Succubus'. Death's...and his own son's!

"Trevor!" cried the blond nobleman as he recovered from the fit of coughing.

Little more than twenty and quite handsome, a brown-haired man stood aside Shaft. He wore a simple attire of ebony overcoat and an azure suit. The eyes held no mercy. Just deadly purpose, deadly rage. "Ah, father, it's about time we spend some quality time together–how about making up for all those lost years?"

"Trevor, please, listen to me–"

"Enough! I've heard enough!"

"But you haven't heard anything at all!"

"And that's about all I want to hear," the blue-eyed former vampire hunter declared. He clenched a fist. "It's time we both worked toward a viable goal. I was a fool before. I'll not be one again."

_Those eyes! A crisp blue! Like _her_ eyes!_

Trevor disdained his father for the moment, instead turning to the dark priest. "Release him. The duty has been done. Now we wait."

"You heard him!" the priest snapped. "Let Alucard go."

Even as the new blood merged with the old, making a sickening rush in his veins, Adrian struggled. Death and the demon did again as commanded, though the Succubus didn't relinquish him without a lick to the ear. He pulled away, repulsed, his thoughts immediately returning to Maria and his friends. Were they safe?

"For the last time, Shaft, my name is Adrian–not Alucard!" came his lethal hiss, still as smooth as a dagger despite the circumstances.

More chuckles from the dark priest. Trevor answered for him. "You've denied your responsibilities and your heritage for too long and it has come back to haunt you. Now run while you still can."

_Why are they letting me go? They have no more use of me?_

He doubted it was that simple.

With one last, urgent glance that would pierce the iciest of hearts, but did not pierce his son's, Adrian raced out the nearest exit. He stumbled through the many corridors that he recognized as Castlevania. Everywhere a clock chimed, reminiscent of the Clock Tower. It was a dreadful reminder of what would become of him.

He would be a vampire by dawn.


	3. Scene 3, The Ebony Heart

_Scene 3 _

_The Ebony Heart_

_Drip._

_Drip._

_Drip. _

Adrian shivered. Incessant water splattered onto his shining forehead. He tried to awaken but in his disoriented state, the former Prince of Darkness was fortunate to remain conscious as it was. His breathing came stifled in such a stifling chamber, salty liquid tempting his parched lips. Water? Was he still within the bowels of the demon castle? Had Castlevania risen...again?

It did not seem impossible. It could be chained to the prime material what with its unwillingness to relinquish its hold on this plane of existence. Every century the sinful abode remanifested itself in this realm as component of the curse of Dracula. Still, a hundred years had certainly not passed. But here it was, evil flowing from the ancient brick walls, such that the Bible and the holiest of waters could not overcome. And now he was prisoner within its walls again.

Coming to a half-sit, the nobleman wondered as to his arrival. This section of the castle he did not recognize. What...Ah, yes...He had been running in the dark entrails of Castlevania for hours, unable to find an exit. Eventually, exhaustion overcame him and Adrian collapsed. Now he sat, propped against a wall, naked save for a drenched nightrobe. The meldowed walls gave off a most repulsive stench. The stench of evil.

Damned he was, in every sense of the word.

The accursed keep revived entirely too many unpleasant memories. That it was present at all was beyond the realm of possibility–then again, Adrian himself was an example of conquering the insurmountable. Pain, of a sort he had thought banished, washed over him...

_..."For what profits a man if he gains the world but loses his soul?"..._

_..."Your father is ahead. Will you forgive me for his death?"..._

_..."You seem human and yet....What are you doing here?..._

_Will I ever be free of it?_

It was the kind of thing that could root itself into the mind and drive a person to lick...meldew...off the walls. Well, maybe not _these _walls...

Indeed damned.

Voices. In the distance. Adrian strained to better hear. Inside a peculiar sensation had invaded his phsyical and mental being. It tossed his ordered mind into chaos. Had they drugged his father's blood?

Adrian knew they had not. With as much as certainty he was well aware of the fluctuations of his body and mind. The old urge, as intense as pain and as irresistible as sex, drove into him. He moaned in half-pleasure and half-agony, extending all ten fingertips to massage his head. Every nerve burned.

Burned with lust of blood, the sweet nectar of mortals. Oh, this was a drug alright–and he had become addicted once again...

Again the memories fluttered in his subconscious. Running through the myriad of this malevolent keep, more than once he'd slipped in the muck, going down and wanting nothing more than to stay down. The former half-breed's mind was a blur, like someone had blindfolded him and spun the blond nobleman for hours. And in the core of his stomach, fear writhed as the Scylla itself.

The bloodlust had been resurrected.

Adrian no more; Alucard once more...

"No!"

No...

No...

No...

It echoed among the cold walls in mockery as a bitter wind.

Adrian burst to his feet, unable to bear his own thoughts and fears any longer. Trapped though he be, the young man would run until his heart arrested within his chest before surrendering. He hated Castlevania, the source of his curse. It would swallow Adrian whole, if it could. _As I was conceived within these walls, shall I perish here, as well? _

Blazing past dripping, web-infested corridors he fled as one possessed. The antechambers shed only the most minimual of light, that of an unsubstantial disk of a moon. Any other man might have lost his mind under such persecution. But Adrian was not any other man. He'd conquered death–quite literally–and life. In Maria he'd found happiness and love. The nobleman would fight to keep all that he'd acquired.

Several times he lost direction, retraced his steps only to return to square one. Several times he collasped to the sludge and slime flooring only to rise to tired feet once more. Then Fate shone benevolence upon him.

Adrian spotted a trail of shattered moonbeams. His golden eyes shut with relief. Strength returned to his weakened physical and mental state. Crossing the distance within a few strides, he exited through a wall crevice. The moon guided his path as the blond man hurried to the grove of dark trees. There he fell to his knees, exhaustion and confusion threatening to cleave his sanity.

_Trevor...Son...Why?_

Was his son in league with Shaft?

NO!

He refused to concede to that blasphemous thought. His own flesh-and-blood would never turn to the evil that they'd both struggled against all their lives! It was inconceivable. Perhaps... Sinking against the tree, gasps abundant, bleary champagne-colored eyes wandered to the terrifying heights of the Clock Tower. No, not Castlevania. A warped representation of its most treacherous warden: the dreaded Clock Tower.

Eleven times rang the clock, each reverberation drilling into the divine prince's skull with intensive pain. Even after the final pell, the nobleman suffered still. Nor did his bloodlust abate. Its hunger inspired maddened visions of voluptuous veins of necks. Among them, his friends...his wife...

In despair, his whites expanding, Adrain gazed up at the twisted spires and numerous catwalks. Where was his son? Within? With Shaft still? Its darkness stark against a glittering, midnight sky only seemed to emphasis the sinister vigor.

Soon, soon would come the dawn. And with it, Alucard.

"Coo! Coo!"

Startled, he spun in a dozen directions. An owl. But of course. Nothing out of ordinary. He could see the red outline of life-heat from the shadow. A feathered night creature lurked in the tree branches, eyes as golden as his own. It remained unmoved by the drama of the nobleman, observing the Tepes with cool caution.

_What! How...can I see the life-heat!?! Only the undead..._

It was already starting. Adrian found himself crouching, eyeing the bird. His hunger clawed at him. Hunt! It said. Draw blood. Nourish yourself! Creeping forward, silent as the moonlight falling to the stones, he mesmerized the bird with the hypnotic vampire gaze he knew how to use so well.

What was he thinking!? Moaning, he ripped from the stare and flung his body to the grass carpet. _It's not even daybreak. How could it happen so soon..._Ah, but the lust is like that of alcoholism–once you have it, you have it, and should you repress it, still it awaits to spring forth again at first opportunity.

Run. Run from here. That did Adrian do. Vanishing through the dark grove like a wisp of a wraith, the golden hair whipping, he sped to the location of the new Tepes Mansion. With no idea as to its coordination, blind faith remained his guide. But more than once did the lust tempt him, and the nobleman's eyes fell upon a young dog that crossed his path.

It was young, a pup yet. But it never stood a chance.

_What will they think of their beloved golden warrior now, reduced to animal bloodsucking?_

Unlike with the owl, the hunger became all encompassing. There was naught but his desperate thirst to be quenched: honor, reason, concern for the animal's welfare vanished beneath the red haze that is the disease of vampirism. His teeth stabbed into the sweat flesh. The dog howled in pain but all Adrian did was draw upon the agony, his physiological desires filling in the dark song of inflicted torment.

Sick at what he'd done, Adrain attempted to bury the corpse but found the task too grisly. Hiding it beneath a fallen tree, he heaved his guts right beside. Continue. Run. Don't stop. The sheer insanity of his plight made the nobleman want to end his life, what was left of it anyway. But the sight of Maria kept him from that fatal course.

Eventually to his vast relief, or dismay (he wasn't certain which) the image of his sister-in-law, Annette Belmont, materialized. "I've found him!" she cried, green eyes bright, while running in his direction. "Maria, Richter, I've found Adrian!"

Good grief....thought Adrian, who was never something alien to the foreign-yet-familiar blood now coursing his veins...Crying. Crying had no place for the undead. Undead? Alucard? The thoughts shattered as he fainted over the damp grass.

Something soft. It felt soft. Smelt; of rose petals. Consciousness once again reasserted itself. Adrian desired nothing more than to remain within the silken folds of sleep. But with awareness came thought and with thought came fear.

Fear of the undead. Fear of himself.

"Maria!" he breathed harshly, opening his eyes to see the lovely face of his wife. Maria watched with worry, her hands covering one of his own, warming the cold flesh. Annette sat on a stool to his left, also sadly disturbed. When the golden prince turned his head, the sight of Richter prowelling at the window, violet cloak like those of the curtains themselves was revealed to his half-drooped eyes.

"We're here, my love. We're here. Tell us, what happened?" Maria comforted, her voice dipping uncharacteristically. She and the others had been searching for him for hours, as evidenced by the stains on their traveling garments. Richter wore his purple-and-blue ensemble, ancient flame whip by his side as always. Both Ann and Maria wore daggers with their leather gear and bags under their eyes.

Time to spill my life, Adrian noted, resigned. In a handful of chosen words, he detailed the capture, subjugation, and subsequent escape. All three listened, silent, worried and furious looks on their faces. Richter muttered something about smothering Shaft while Annette appeared appalled at his described violation. But Maria went white to the lips as the former half-breed mentioned his son.

"Son? You have a son?" she quickly inquired, emerald eyes wide. "You never told me. With who? When? Who–?!"

Immediately, Adrian sat up sharply, and restrained her wrist. His eyes flashing, he whispered, "It's a long tale."

"I would like to hear it."

He nodded. Annette made him comfortable in the blankets as she'd do for either Marie or Alan. The woman had an air of motherhood and discipline about her that her younger sister, Maria, never had. Maria sat on the bed, lips pressed tightly. Even Richter, a half-shadow in the moon's radiance, cocked an ear to listen as he stood ward to the Tepes Mansion.

Breathing deeply, opening the wound to his soul that hadn't seen light in centuries, Adrian began.

_Delicate starlight waterfalled from the stain glass windows, casting an even more deathly hue to the already marble features of a vampire prince. As ice, he sat upon the throne, golden eyes distant, cape fluttering like the bats that attended him. And yet, fierce fire blazed within his tortured soul._

_It was not easy being the son of Dracula._

_For weeks now, the half-breed had spied on a young warrior female, a threat to their race had claimed his father. She'd come slaughter all undead, exterminate them as if they were insects. But as Alucard watched the beautiful vampire huntress enter the throne room with murder in her eyes something came over him. No, not murder, he realized. Sorrow. Sorrow for _his _kind!_

_A decision had to be made. His mortal or immortal side. For good or for evil._

_Little did he know it, but Alucard's heart already belonged to a Belmont._

"Sonia Belmont," Annette observed.

"Yes. I–I still dream of her."

_A most unusual union indeed. As the the vampire prince and vampire huntress joined forces to vanquish his tyrant father, something blossomed between the two. Alucard could not have known it. Sonia could not have known it. They were falling in love. As Dracula's blood streaked the walls of Castlevania and their doom seemed imminent, the handsome nobleman disclosed his feelings._

_Never in his imagination could he believe she'd return his love. Sonia and Alucard survived and constructed a secluded home. Now naturally, Alucard declined consummating their relationship for fear of his vampirism. What if she were to carry his seed? To bear a child? The possibilities were frightening._

_But ever are men fools who are in love..._

"Our ancestor. You...were...involved...with Sonia?" asked Richter in a hush tone.

His eyes on Maria, willing her to understand, he conceded, "I loved her."

_That love was his downfall. One night, caught up in each other, Sonia and Alucard made love. As the sun awoke them, both realized their great folly. As time soon confirmed, they had brought another vampire into the world._

_Trevor Belmont._

Going completely rigid, Richter glanced at his eccentric friend and whispered, "Trevor? _Trevor Belmont_? My ancenstor? _You're_ his father? _My_ great, grand–!"

A sigh from Adrian. "Too many 'greats' to count. But, yes, I am the father of the Belmont clan."

"Why did you never tell me!" demanded Maria. Her anger could be more accurately deciphered as fear.

So was his. "I...I was afraid."

_Indeed, afraid. The half-breed nobleman understood in alarm, how, like his dictator patriarch, he'd brought a curse into the world. But neither he nor the beautiful Sonia could bear the thought of murdering their child. They looked into his eyes and saw only innocence. Together, they sought a way to release their son of the evils of his father's heritage._

_One cool rainy summer night, Sonia took the infant Trevor to a church. Though drab due to the poor weather, the stunning wooden cross that stood sentinel over the entrance archway was enough to persuade Alucard to remain outside. Instead, he watched from the beautifully-designed window. His golden hair plastered to his skull, cold in body and soul, the damned prince heard every word._

_Sona pleaded with a highly-respected priest to remove her son's curse. At first, the priest refused to even see her, deeming the huntress sinful for bringing a fouled child into God's house. But eventually her sweet voice and desperation broke him down._

_He agreed to a cleansing. All was well until the priest, opulent in his white robes, noticed a shadow by the window. "I know you," he hissed darkly._

_Alucard's eyes flashed and his breathed hitched._

"_I know you, demon spawn," came his hateful snarl. "How could you! How could you spread your evil taint?!"_

_A dark outline on the god-endorsing glass, Alucard murmured, "Does God not teach forgiveness?"_

_The harsh expression altered as the eyes fell upon little Trevor. He made a snap decision. "In the interest of humanity and your child, son of Dracula, put yourself into a endless sleep. Do so, and I will restore the infant."_

_Sonia's cry of fury and anguish resonated in the hallowed chamber of God._

"So you agreed," Maria stated flatly.

Falling back against the soft pillows, eyes squinted in remembered pain, he nodded again. "There was no other way. My seed was plagued. I–I loved Sonia. And our child. In my shame, I hid within the crumpled bowels of Castlevania to rest for eternity. To my immense horror, I learned that Sonia was murdered by fanatics in a manner much like my mother–burned at the stake."

During the tale, Maria exchanged posts with her brother-in-law, eyes haunted. Richter shifted on his feet and offered a silly smile every so often to relieve the tension. His valiant effort was in vain. Even his wife, Annette, seemed shaken up.

"And now," Richter said, "Shaft has Trevor brainwashed, bent on using you and your...son...to ressurect Castlevania. Beautiful. Just beautiful."

Annette leapt to her feet and whipped out a dagger, "Sounds like a rescue mission to me."

The Belmonts left Adrian's bedchamber to plan for a raid on the 'Clock Tower'. Adrian knew they'd formulate a terrific counterstrike, valuable companions that they are. But it would take more than good plans and a lot of heart for this crisis. What if, in their invasion, Trevor should be hurt? Killed?

_What if I kill him...both my father and my son!_

His troubled eyes trailed to his wife. "That's not the end of it." She nodded woodenly. "Remember the time I bit you? I have reason to believe that I have become reinfected with my father's bloodlust..."

A gasp. So faint it almost could not be heard. Oh, but he heard it. Such inhuman hearing. Not human at all. "You're a–a vampire?"

In the waiting silence his voice fell like a stone dislodged from a dam.

Heaven came down. "...Yes."


	4. Scene 4, The Golden Prince

_Scene 4 _

_The Golden Prince_

Dead leaves floated up from the ground, wreathing the three figures that strode through the graveyard. The symbolism of the fleeing foliage was not lost on the poetic nobleman; nor the symbolism of the tombstones they passed. The newly re-tainted blood that coursed his veins would only add to that desolation and death.

His tainted blood…and Trevor's.

_My son is lost to me…_

Each step Adrian took felt as heavy as his heart. His golden eyes lifted to the spires of the Clock Tower in the distance; the same one he and his companions strode towards. No, not entirely lost, he knew, as the blond prince's fingers drifted over his mother's sword. Soon, with a single stroke of that blade, and the nightmare would end.

And hell would begin…for what sort of afterlife awaited a man who'd slain his own father and his own son?

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Adrian, love, what is the matter?"

Drifting up from the dark hole of contemplations, the young nobleman glanced at his companions: his beautiful bride and her brother. Maria and Richter stared back him, worry clear upon their faces. Once Adrian committed his newest sin, he fully intended to lock himself away and for good this time.

The former prince shook his head bitterly, angrily. _So selfish I was…to think I could live among mortals…to think I could live, love, be one of them…But why not? Why, god, not?_

Before he could open his mouth, the sound of snapping branches drew Adrian's gaze away. He, along with Richter and Maria, gasped as they saw Annette running up to them. The blonde woman looked a mess; that hair was splayed across her face and her purple dress was in tatters.

"Richter! Help! They've taken the children!"

Annette crashed into her husband's arms, sobbing. At her words Richter visibly tensed, shouting, "Who, Annie? Who would dare!"

"I would!"

Turning his head as the others did, Adrian half-expected to see Trevor or Shaft. His golden eyes widened to encompass a massive mob, hefting torches and all manner of weapons. At the front of the mob was the priest who'd performed his and Maria's wedding ceremony, each of his hands tightly holding a child of Richter and Annette.

"Mommy, mommy!" they cried in eerie unison.

"Marie! Alan!" Their mother beat her fists at Richter but the vampire hunter did not let her go. Even as he restrained her, Richter's cheeks tightened and his hand clenched around his whip. That relieved Adrian. Somehow he knew that the mere act of Anne might inspire the bloodlust of the crowd. If that should happen and either of the kids got caught in the crossfire…

"Let them go!" Maria stomped her foot.

The priest's eyes were for Adrian alone and in them burned a fire that the nobleman almost felt heat of it. With a slight nod of his head and another man stepped forth and threw the bundle he was carrying. It landed at the former prince's feet. Part of the wrapping uncoiled and Adrian gasped, recognizing it.

The bundle was a dog, the very same one he'd drained of blood.

As if he'd, too, been drained of blood, Adrian looked up at the priest, unable to reply.

"I propose a bargain…" the clergyman said, none of the befuddlement in his expression he'd had on Adrian's wedding day. He was addressing Richter now, though his gaze remained on the nobleman. "Hand over the demon and we will relinquish the children."

"No!" His wife moved toward the priest, but Adrian grabbed her arm.

The priest snarled, "Vampires have no place in this world." He turned to Richter and Annette. "So, what will it be, Belmont? I wish no harm to the children but what greater harm would come of letting this evil creature prey upon our village?" There was a grunting consensus from the mob.

"Please let them go…" Annette was becoming hysterical.

Her green eyes flashing, Maria broke her husband's grip. She would never have been able to do that on her own but the prince could see that she no longer meant to throw herself at the crowd. "Richter, please," she said. "We can't give them Adrian….they'll kill him!"

Never before had Adrian seen the vampire hunter so torn. The man loved Adrian like a brother; was now, in fact, a brother. Clearly he could see that the nobleman was a victim in this twisted scenario….but then his blue eyes flickered to the twins, squirming in the priest's grip. That gaze flickered back from them to Adrian…and back and forth…

How could he watch them die…_or_ sacrifice an innocent man?

"Adrian, I…"

Swiftly, the nobleman's hand went up, silencing the vampire hunter. His beautiful sun-shaded hair twirled as he faced the priest. "There will be no need to blackmail, Richter. I shall deliver myself to you and then you must return the children, unharmed."

The mob growled and grumbled, the firelight from their torches casting shadows upon the gravestones. Still, the priest seemed satisfied. He nodded to another man, who came bearing chains. The metal would not hold one of vampiric strength, Adrian knew, but he had no desire to resist.

"No, stop, stop this madness!" Maria stepped forward and this time Adrian was too slow to stop her from getting between him and the crowd. Her gloved hands waved high in the air. "No one has to die! Let's—" Her words were cut short as she was struck full in the face and she stumbled to the ground, dazed.

Horrified, the nobleman ran over to his wife. The crowd started shouting, fearful. "Maria, what happened?" At her weak gesture upwards, Adrian's gaze flew to the midnight sky.

In a flaming chariot pulled by two nightmares, stood Shaft and Trevor, the latter brandishing the whip he'd used against Maria. To either side of the pair was Death, scythe shining from the firelight, and the Succubus, who winked lustily at Adrian. The sight sent more than a few members of the crowd scurrying in terror.

"Alucard," called the dark priest. "It is time to go home….home to Castlevania!"

The nobleman clenched a fist, wind picking up his black cloak. "No. I am not Alucard and my home is not Castlevania…"

Annoyance burned in Trevor's blue eyes. "Enough, Shaft. He will not accept his heritage. It is time for me to kill my father as he has killed his'." Shaft clutched at the Belmont's arm but Trevor shrugged him off. "Have at you!" The former vampire hunter shouted as tossed a vial the color of his eyes at Adrian.

"Holy Water!"

Twisting at an odd angle, Adrian dodged the burning liquid and it struck the tombstone next to him. Like grease it splattered, striking the nobleman in several places making any effort to evade his son's next attack impossible. The leather whip hit him hard across the chest, forcing the nobleman to back off.

Chaos ensued. Annette screamed and got free of Richter's grasp. The vampire hunter made two paces after her when Death intercepted him, swiping the scythe at his head. Richter ducked then came up snapping with his whip. Maria engaged the Succubus who had been shadowing her sister's steps as Annette's attention remained riveted on the captive children.

The nightmares' screams tore into Adrian's brain as the chariot made a pass for him. Tossing himself to the right, the nobleman almost fell straight into an open grave. He shivered at the thought and climbed to his feet, bringing his blade to deflect Trevor's whip. Shaft was in deep concentration yet, oddly enough, failed to produce anything for his efforts.

Meanwhile, he could see Annette grab her son who was crying. Richter tried to reach their other child, Marie, but Death dogged his steps forcing the vampire hunter to defend himself or be impaled. Maria was likewise still busy with the Succubus. Adrian could see the little girl still held hostage by the priest who had been completely abandoned by the townspeople. The clergyman held her in a death grip with an expression of utter horror.

"Adrian, can you get Marie free?" his wife shouted as she threw a dagger at the Succubus.

Nodding, the nobleman dodged another strike of Trevor's whip and ran toward Marie. In the background he could hear the sounds of battle and the pursuit of the chariot. Adrian had to sidestep the townsfolk's dropped weapons and the patches of flame. His unarmed gloved hand extended, ready to scoop the girl up the instant he reached her.

He was not fast enough.

A shadow passed overhead and the chariot came into view. Adrian cursed, helpless, as Trevor flipped up a knife and slit the priest's throat right in front of them all. Annette screamed and pulled Alan close to her chest. Maria and Richter were still too engaged with the Succubus and Death to be of any assistance.

Then Trevor lifted the girl and teased his knife to her neck. Everything went still for Adrian. The only thing he could hear was his thundering heart; the only thing he could see was the flash of murder in his son's eyes. _No, Trevor, please….don't become the monster I was, that my father was…_

Trevor smiled. Adrian shivered.

"Trevor I beg you to stop!" The nobleman's hand drifted surreptitiously to the hilt of his sword. His other hand made a fist, fighting the fear and fury in his heart. If his son did not release Marie Adrian would have no choice but to slay him right then and there. _If I could manage to get Trevor before he cut the little girl's neck…_

He couldn't afford 'ifs' and neither could Marie.

"What?" the former vampire hunter said softly, mockingly. "Brings back memories?"

"Yes…" Adrian let out a heavy breath. "Of dark times and vile deeds. It is not a path you want to walk, my son. You have fought and even defeated such evil many times. Do not allow it to consume you!"

In the background his companions still struggled against their enemies—the cries of pain and victory, of horror and fury sounded as clearly as the wind. Annette was moaning, holding Alan tightly. During all this, Shaft had not come out of his bizarre trance and something about his stance was vaguely familiar to the nobleman.

Then, Shaft's concentration slipped and a curious thing happened.

Trevor twitched, his gaze clouding over. That, too, was familiar. The nobleman titled his head, curious, scrapping desperately at the fringe of his mind to recall exactly how. The former vampire hunter's grip on Marie loosened but that's all that the little girl needed. Before Trevor could come to his senses, in either manner of the word, she darted across the graveyard.

"Marie!" Richter cried, grabbing the little girl. She was weeping and hiccupping; her little pink dress was smeared with the priest's blood. With one hand, the vampire hunter kept Death at bay with a whip and the other held his daughter. Annette was hurrying over with their son as Maria whipped out the Holy Glasses.

_The Holy Glasses…? _Adrian's mouth gapped open as the implications of that struck his brain. _Is it possible…Is Shaft really…Oh, please, god, say it is so! _The nobleman would have gone to his son, tried to shake him, but the Succubus leapt into his path. Her claws ripped three slashes across his chest, blood flying with the attack.

"Adrian, the green globe!" Maria shouted from his right, donning the glasses. "I see the green globe!"

Putting a hand to his torso, blood streaming past his fingers, Adrian stumbled to a knee. Though he couldn't see the globe his wife spoke of, he understood the meaning. Hope shined in his heart—hope for Trevor's soul. He was not lost to them yet. Now that the nobleman knew what had gone wrong, he could correct it.

Lifting his sword, Adrian lunged forward. He planned to disable the demon and go after his son.

But the Succubus was already high in the sky…and so was Trevor.

"No!" The nobleman rushed to the spot where the chariot had first risen into the midnight skies. It shrank as it floated higher and higher, obscuring the stars. Trevor stared down at his father, but the expression he wore was indistinguishable. Was he starting to break free of the spell? Was the son lost to him finally coming back?

A hand touched his shoulder. His tortured soul in his golden eyes, Adrian turned to gaze at Maria. She gave his shoulder a squeeze. "We'll find them and get Trevor back." Her other hand hefted the Holy Glasses, the light from the dying flames glinting off them. At the end of his vision, he could see the Belmont family sharing hugs and tears.

_...My family almost destroyed theirs….Either I redeem his soul…or lose my own…_

_But how to find get to him before Shaft replaces the spell…perhaps permanently this time?_

_If only I could fly…Fly? Yes, I can fly…_

Perhaps a hint of his thoughts flickered in the nobleman's eyes for Maria frowned, worried. Giving her an apologetic look, Adrian turned away, walking slowly through the graveyard. His sword trailed the ground, scattering the leaves and the broken weapons. From behind him, the nobleman heard the questions of Richter and Annette, the whispers of the children and Maria's own strained inquiry.

"Adrian, love, what are you doing?"

He halted and glanced over a shoulder. "Know always that I love you, my wife."

He did not see her horrified face, nor heard her gasp. As Adrian gave into the sensations coursing his body, his mouth tore open in a scream. That too, fell on deaf ears. His body contorted, shrinking. Like the bloodlust, the night vision and many other traits of his race, the ability of shape shifting swiftly returned to the reawakened vampire.

Spreading his wings, the bat took off into the skies.

The hunt was on.


	5. Scene 5, The Silver Tower

_Scene 5 _

_The Silver Tower_

_Castlevania…again._

No, not technically Castlevania, thought Adrian the bat as he flew through a crevice in the wall. The transformation back to "human" form tore a cry from him and it was over before his boots even met the stone floor. No telling what awaited him here in the cursed Clock Tower; the nobleman did not relish the idea of being caught in such a vulnerable state.

Tilting his head up, his mane of shining golden hair falling down his back, Adrian viewed the tower all the way to the ceiling. A silver staircase was positioned on both sides of the tower both ending at platforms. The platforms floated up and down, meeting only once. At the height of platforms' lift was single set of steps that eventually ended in a landing with an enormous clock handing about ten feet above.

There was no immediate sign of Trevor. In fact, no sign of any living creature aside from himself. _Me? Living?_ Adrian thought dryly._ That remains up for debate._ Still; the former prince did not relinquish his vigilance, champagne-shaded eyes peering at the curtains high in the tower. Softly the nobleman called out to his son. As no one answered his voice became urgent, strained even.

"Trevor, it's…your father…I've come to see you, to save you from yourself...:" Adrian frowned, the expression distorting his marble facial features. "I see you will not respond….Very well…Then just listen…Richter was manipulated by Shaft, his mind enslaved….I have reason to believe you've been likewise controlled…Trevor! Where are you?"

Adrian's head lowered as he heard the crack of a whip.

"Here."

As the nobleman spun around to the direction of the sound, black cloak swirling with the half-step, he caught sight of Trevor. Whip latched onto an overhead piper, his son swung at him and with his free hand tossed a vial of Holy Water at his father. Adrian froze for just a second. Then he twisted to the left, the burning liquid searing nearly the entire right side of his face.

Momentarily blinded in one eye, the former prince backed off. His mother's blade sprang in his hand like an extension of his will. A good thing too, else Adrian would have suffered another blow, this time from the lash of a whip. The blade deflected it, causing his son to dart aside from the counter-thrust of his father's sword.

Trevor did not take long to recover but it afforded his father enough time to hurry up the stairs on the right side of the tower. Adrian ducked and a thrown dagger struck the stone wall behind him. A second dagger followed the first; the third ended up mashed in the gears of the machinery above them.

"Trevor, listen to me! You are being controlled!"

"By you!"

"By Shaft!"

The former vampire hunter ceased his assault long enough to laughed heartily. "More lies, father? Shame on you! You were the one who let my mother die! You were the one who deceived me, hiding my heritage…All to protect your dirty little secret!" Fueled on by his own words, Trevor came at his father with a vengeance, whip whirling.

Each strike of the whip forced Adrian that much higher up the steps, with only a little distance remaining to the floating platforms. He had no desire to ride one of those. "I'm sorry Trevor…." He parried a whip lash with the flat of his blade. He was almost on the right platform, one foot hovering over empty air. "I wish I could I have saved Sonia….Oh, god, how dearly I do…"

His son growled, hurling another knife. It missed the mark of his father's heart by mere inches, flying through Adrian's underarm. The nobleman felt like it had struck his heart, for the gesture did. _Why won't he listen? Why do my words have no affect….? _Despite the seeming futility, Arian kept talking. "I could never tell you about me….To do so could damn your soul!"

Trevor ceased his attacks, blue eyes blinking rapidly. Adrian rejoiced momentarily but that joy bled out of him when his son shook his head of brown hair and his face went hard. "No! You will not fool me again! Have at you!" Then the whip came up in a flash, slapping against the nobleman's chest. The force of the assault knocked Adrian off the platform.

The fall would not likely kill him—it was only about fifteen feet—but any injury now might his downfall.

Reaching out with the hand not holding his sword, Adrian grasped the edge of a floating platform on its descent. A knife sailed past and was destroyed by a large spiked wheel. Another just nipped his left shoulder, drawing the barest hint of blood. Gasping, the nobleman glanced up as the platform he held onto stopped briefly and then began its ascent.

There stood Trevor on the other platform, his own starting to align with his father's. He tapped the whip lightly on his other hand. Despair welled up in the nobleman as he gazed into Trevor's ice-cold eyes. As relived as he was to have his sight almost fully restored another disaster exploded in Adrian's mind.

_The glasses…I forgot the Holy Glasses…!_

"From son to father…Make peace with Death for I'm sure you'll have lots to talk about when you go to meet him!" With that, the former vampire hunter hauled out yet another bottle of Holy Water and threw it into the air. His whip snapped up and shattered it, raining down the particles and the searing liquid.

Both fell harmlessly to the ground for Adrian was not there; at least not Adrian the "human". The nobleman was not certain he'd be able to transform into mist. He had not since his last bout with vampirism. It didn't last long and so Adrian back-flipped onto his platform. He had less than a heartbeat to deflect a storm of daggers.

"Trevor! I don't want to fight you!"

"Then don't! Surrender and I shall make your end painless!"

Closer and closer the platforms came. Then, they aligned.

Blue to gold eyes met. So did their weapons, leather crashing against steel.

Adrian managed to block the first of son's strikes but eventually a few slipped past his defenses and drew blood. One struck the side of his head nearly throwing the nobleman off his platform. Another whip attack tore a sizable shred of sable cloth, exposing Adrian's arm. He had a few opportunities to retaliate but the former prince did not, dared not. How would he ever break the spell upon his son if he hurt him?

_Damn my foolishness! Why did it not occur to me to take the glasses with me?_

Eventually the platforms distanced beyond either man's reach of the other and Adrian took the chance to abandon his. Leaping onto the last landing, the nobleman raced up the stairs, his mind similarly racing with ideas on how to end this without harm to either Trevor or himself. One after another he discarded the options that came to him, desperation contorting his pale face.

Then clock hit twelve and the bells tolled.

_If one of us must die…let it be me! _Adrian's gaze left the sight of ascending Trevor to the massive clock. Then those eyes drifted over to the curtained window. Had he seen movement there? The wind perhaps…But no, the nobleman realized, it was not the wind. There was a robed man floating there, his head down, legs bent under him.

"Shaft…"

The dark priest did not seem to notice the detection, his concentration on the Belmont. His mutterings were too soft for Adrian to pick out the words, but the nobleman had no doubt of the power in them. Adrian glanced back down. His son shook his head as if to clear it. Then the hate in his face intensified like a fanned flame.

Adrian's breath hitched. Would slaying Shaft free his son?

Unfortunately there was no time to test that theory as Trevor came at him, whip whirling. His mother's blade darted up, blocking all but the last—it slashed his left leg. The nobleman's plan would be meaningless if he couldn't distract his son long enough to try. He'd have morphed into a bat and pelted Shaft with fireballs but both Trevor and the priest would likely kill before he'd even finished the spell.

Then, her voice, like the cry of an angel.

"Adrian, love, here! Catch!"

Stunned, the nobleman's gaze lowered to see Maria on one of the platforms; Richter was on the other keeping both Death and the Succubus at bay. When had all of them arrived? The vampire huntress hurled the glasses upwards, toward her husband. Kicking his son back, Adrian made a grab for them. In a single try, he claimed them.

And then Trevor struck him from behind.

And the glasses slipped from his grasp.

Like a snakehead from the Medusa, the whip wrapped around Adrian's throat so he couldn't try to retrieve the glasses or even see what happened to them. The nobleman gagged, fingers of his now free hand flying up to claw at the leather. It did not budge though, if anything the effort only weakened him and try as he might, the former prince could not keep a hold of his sword either.

In the background he could hear the sound of the glasses shattering. And with them Adrian felt a bit of his soul break. _Oh, dear god, Trevor! No…How can I save you now….?_

Slaying Shaft? He'd need to be free of the imprisoning whip first...

From the sounds of it Maria was crying out in anger; Richter had his whip in the air repelling attacks. The noise dimmed in his head as the nobleman became dangerously depleted of air. Brilliant stars burst before his eyes. Adrian was uncertain how much vampirism flowed in his veins but he didn't know if he could survive asphyxiation or not.

Thoughts of his heritage gave the nobleman an idea and he tore at the leather with his last remaining weapon: his teeth. Dagger-sharp they freed Adrian and he darted to the side anticipating his son's strike. Quickly he snatched up his sword in time deflect a second strike. His mind swirled chaotically, trying to formulate a plan to reach Shaft.

"Adrian!" Maria screamed.

Richter echoed her. "Look out, man!"

Distracted by despair, Adrian barely had time to blink before his son flicked his whip around the nobleman's left ankle. In a horrible slowness the former prince knew he was going down but couldn't react fast enough. Adrian let out a cry as the whip pulled and he hit the stone landing, hard, with his head. Again, his sword fell from his grasp as pain exploded in his head.

A shadow fell over his face. Trevor's shadow.

His son held a blade—Adrian's own—poised above his father's heart.

_So this it…Father kills son, son kills father….When will the evil cycle end?_

Adrian gasped. Trevor smiled.

"No, Trevor, stop!" Richter kept his whip whirling.

Maria's voice was choked with fear. "Please, don't damn you!"

"That's right, Trevor!" Shaft laughed. "Strike! Kill! Avenge your mother!"

_Kill? Has Shaft no more use of me? Probably not,_ thought the nobleman. _I resisted the evil flowing through my veins. But Trevor…._Adrian gazed deep into the former vampire hunter's eyes, so much like Sonia's and yet, not. Hers shined with hope, determination; all Adrian read from his son's eyes was hatred.

Trevor's smile widened. "To death I consign you…Father!"

Adrian's eyes shut. "I…forgive you."

Like a bolt of lightning the blade pierced Adrian's chest, straight into his heart. Unbidden, the nobleman gasped, golden eyes flying open. Maria was shrieking; Richter was shouting. Blood poured from where his own blade was imbedded, staining the nobleman's fine clothing. Pain burned his nerve endings leaving him moaning…

And what was that he saw in his son's eyes?

Shock? Horror? Sorrow?

"Father?" Trevor looked like a lost little boy. His hands shook. When the former vampire hunter glimpsed the sword in his father's chest his mouth opened but no sound came out. Slowly he slipped the blade out, his other hand sliding immediately to block the flow of life. "What...What have I done!"

_The spell? Is he free of the spell? _One good look into his son's face told Adrian he was. In the background, the nobleman could hear the sounds of battle receding but for him, that moment, there was no others. Even as the blood pumped out his body, he rejoiced to see the hatred gone from Trevor replaced by confusion and grief.

"Damn!" Shaft threw his arms wide, the selves of his robe falling back. A sickly purple light expanded from him, slamming into the walls. At that, the hard stone quaked. Voices cried out—Richter's, Maria's, Trevor's. Adrian continued gasping, each becoming fainter than the last. As stone particles rained down, his son threw his own body as a shield to protect the nobleman.

Shaft had lost…and now he would be making his exit a dramatic one.

"What happened?" Trevor asked, his shoulder-length brown hair dancing as he glanced around at the crumbling tower. "Why am I here? How are you here? Why….?"

Pain flared in the nobleman's body making him feverish. He feared he would soon be delirious too. As his hands convulsed of their own accord, Trevor took one of them in his hands. The gesture heartened him and gave Adrian strength. "No time…to explain…Flee, my son….Get Richter and Maria out of here…" Here the former prince gagged as blood came out of his mouth.

Trevor's eyes flashed. "No! I don't know what's going on but I'm not leaving you like this!"

Consciousness was slipping from grasp but the nobleman held onto it a bit longer. He'd freed Trevor—or his son had freed himself—but all that would be for naught if he could not convince him to leave. And what of Richter and Maria?

"Please, Trevor…" His vision tunneled and the nobleman could no longer see his son, though he could still feel the heat of his hands. "I know…I am dying…Let me go…You must let me go…"

"No…" There were tears in that voice, Adrian knew.

"Last…dying…wish…Go!"

For a moment longer, the hands held on. Then, slowly, they drifted away. Nearly drowned in darkness and silence still the former prince heard the footsteps on stone, Maria's protests and Richter's urgent shouting. Adrian managed a weak smile as he understood the implications of those sounds: Richter, Maria and Trevor were escaping the tower.

Bits of stone struck his body but he barely felt them. In the darkness a searing bright light burned. Such was the luminance that it hurt to stare at but Adrian could not draw his gaze away even if he had wanted to. There was naught but light now. _So, is this death? Not the persona but the true experience…_

A hand stretched out of the light.

_"Love, I've come to take you home…"_

He knew that voice! "Sonia?"

_"Yes…Adrian. Come with me. You are weary…and I have missed you." _

Smiling, the nobleman grasped her hand and then there was only darkness.

_Author: First I'd like to thank all the people who supported this and the prequel, The Tragic Prince. _

_Kitala: Thanks for reading and enjoying the torture! smiles_

_Patricia: I'm glad you like it so much. And thanks for the PM by the way. Yes, I did play CoD and in fact some of it inspired this fic._

_Sofasoap: Pleased to know you liked this story too. And yeah, I rather liked the line myself. _

_Sunflare: What are you doing here? You're suppose to be working on your own fic! smiles I'm glad to have your support from the sidelines…Always good to have a friend's comments._

_Anyway, the Tragic Prince was not created to have a sequel—likewise neither was the Fallen Prince. However, just like Tragic I felt there was enough pull from Fallen and unfinished business that I have now in the works the third of the "Prince" series: The Living Prince. So, look out for it…Same vampire bloodthirsty channel…Some vampire bloodthirsty time…./lame joke._


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